Carlie and Iris at the Esther Short Park Fountain, 8/26/09
Carlie and I are home from the airport, where we sent Maggy and Iris back off to Texas. Our house is very quiet. And messy. Carlie is very, very sad. When Maggy and Iris moved away in July 2008, it literally took months for Carlie to get over it. Her sister and her niece are a huge part of her little 10-year-old life and when they left she was absolutely distraught. And today she's reliving that just a little bit. It's heartbreaking to watch.
I am torn. It's hard. I had Iris here for the first nine months of her little life, and then Maggy made the decision to move in with her (My Space) boyfriend (not the baby's father) and move back to Texas. And I still don't agree with that decision. And I know for a fact that while that decision may be good for Maggy (right now) it is not in the best interest of her daughter. And I'm angry about that. Still. Over a year later.
Letting go of anger is not something I do well or often. And it's hard for me to enjoy Maggy's company and have a fun visit when I'm bottling of A LOT of anger about the whole move and the life choices she's made and continues to make. I'm proud of her accomplishments (employed, back in college) and of the way she has become a caring and loving mother. I'll spare you the baby daddy drama and just say that regardless of where Maggy wants to be, Iris should not be in Texas. She should never be close enough for her father to exercise his visitation (which he has started to do in the last three months with scary regularity).
So while Maggy is doing beautiful job in the day-to-day task of mothering, she is literally putting her child in harms way by living in Texas. I'm not exaggerating. Believe me. I wish I was.
And I'm mad. And I'm sad. And I don't want to talk about it. And I can't stop talking about it. And I want to cry, but I'm too busy distracting Carlie so she can stop crying. And the whole situation is just an enormous ball of suck.
3 comments:
:(
Well, you can't make your grown adult children do something they're not ready to do. Unfortunately.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry too.
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